The next night, MacFie searched and searched for anything that would give him an idea on how to redress the situation. He looked in the cemetery, in the vegetable garden and even around the tool shed. Nothing came of it. He searched the town, near and far, all night long. When morning came, he was still flying. He stretched and yawned as the sun’s rays peeked from the horizon. He wasn’t ready to give up now.
He was thinking of Peter when he landed on a snowy mountain side. “What–Who put this here?” he muffled through the snow. “Where did all this snow come from?” MacFie sat up. “Snow?” He looked down at the white canvas of snow that stretched for miles and miles around the mountain. “Snow! I found snow!” He jumped for joy. “Wouldn’t it be swell if the town got snow this year. It hasn’t snowed in a hundred years. If only–that’s it. I’ll bring snow to them! I know what I to do. It has to work. This might bring them the Christmas spirit they renounce.”
MacFie flew back to the Orphanage, he had one night left to make it right. He went back for the gunny sack he had left at the shed, grabbed it and went around looking for other things he needed. Once he had the bell Father Clery rang at the caroling, a lantern and an old coat he found, he hid the gunny sack in the shed and returned to Peter’s side.
When nightfall came, MacFie waited till Peter was sound asleep. He had to be canny. He made sure everyone was in slumber before setting his plan in motion. He expeditiously flew to the mountain, gathered up enough snow in the gunny sack, threw it over his shoulder and with all his might, flew back to town. He let the snow fall near the windows of each home and rang the bell as he did so. He flew back to the mountain, gathered more snow and flew back to town. He did this over and over again, making it seem that snow was actually falling.